


Beneath my Uniform

by SulphuricAcid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And One songfic, Changing POV, Draco is a werewolf (but itˋs not that important in this story), M/M, Songfic, not really compliant beginning at/after Book 6, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-10 23:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5604790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SulphuricAcid/pseuds/SulphuricAcid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle of Hogwarts is over. Draco is in Azkaban awaiting his trial and his mind is still filled by war. Harry became an Auror, cleaning up the remnants of the wizarding world and his mind is empty ever since he killed Voldemort.</p><p>Both boys are missing crucial parts of their identity, since they have been hiding beneath various uniforms all their lifes and now  have to ask themselves for the first time who they are and what they really want.</p><p>Songfic based on "Unter meiner Uniform" (in English: Beneath my Uniform - who would have guessed^^) by "And One", it's not necessary to know the song to enjoy the story since it will be pretty loosly based on the lyrics, but see the notes for some interpretation of the lyrics and if you want, go listen to the song :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chaten 1: Draco

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do a fic on this song for quite a while, I have to think of Draco and Harry when I listen to it, about the roles they take on for other people and the personas they hide behind. I imagine that this is what they have in common and what finally brings them together. There will (probably) be no real content about them as a couple or as actual lovers, it's more to show how they beginn their relationship, what they mean to each other.
> 
> The most important message of the song is, imo, that you can only die once beneath your uniform, meaning that benath the roles we take on in life, we, our own personality can die, so that nothing is left but an outer husk, an uniform. We hide behind those uniforms, but there is also a danger of losing ourselfs in them. So dying doesn't mean literally dying, but figuratively. It also means that a person can be very different from the role they portray beneath that image.  
> It's also a song about feeling lost and longing for another person...I think you can guess how that fits to Draco and Harry now ;)
> 
> Point of View will change between Draco and Harry.
> 
> For me it's more about the feelings and the mood I want to transport, so I might not be 100% accurate towards the books, also: I really, really came to like the theory about Draco being a werewolf, in short it states that he never got the dark mark (which you never actually see on his forearm, it's only assumed), but that he was turned into a Werewolf by Fenrir Grayback to punish the Malfoy Family and get them back in line after they disappointed him....if you want to know more about it, there are some youtube videos and also a website about the topic...I think it fits perfectly into the way I see Draco and I want him to be in this story, that's why I wrote it in but please note that this is not an explicit Werewolf-fic, it's just part of his character-developement and therefor important.
> 
> At last: Please excuse any spelling mistakes, I'm not a native speaker and I'm writing this story directly into AOOO so if you want to copy it to have it secured, feel free to do so (I probably will do this myself in a few days but right now I don't have my flashdrive)
> 
> At least: I will also continue my other story, Stroke on Stroke, soon, I'm sorry, I'm a bad authoress and I don't really have an excuse apart from being buisy, then lazy and also slightly stuck but I promise I'll continue soon, this story is kind of to get back into the habit of writing Drary^^
> 
>  
> 
> Happy New Year, Sulfuric!

Chapter 1: Draco

 

In my dreams, in that restless tossing and turning sleep has become, I see your face before my eyes. We are back in Hogwarts, back in six years and I'm haunted by what I have become, haunted by him. You look at me, your eyes meet mine and there is no kindness in your glanze. Your eyes that look kind at anyone else but me. They used to search something in my face, or at least that's what I always felt, that you stared right into my soul and kept looking for...what? I always wondered. But now, they are not even angry, not really. They used to be furious because I would provoke you but now they only turn stonecold as soon as we lock eyes. I close my eyes but your coldness burns right through my lids. I try to transmit my feeling to you, everything, everything that happened during the summer, that is happening right now, my feelings that are burning me up... but you don't see. They call you the saviour but I know you won't save me and I can't even blame you after all I've done.

I tried to turn my thoughts magnetic to pull you towards me; everytime I entered the room of requirement to work on the vanishing cabinet, Itried to pull you there to prefent what I could only delay. Everytime you stood before me, cold and distant, I tried to pull you towards me, close to me, to make you understand how much I needed you to know the things I couldn't tell you. I wanted you to grab my arm, pull up my sleeve and see and understand, understand that I didn't have a choice, not anymore, that it was too late. If you'd have seen the bitemarks you would have known what he's done to me...and you always supported Lupin so you also would have stood up for me, right? Right? 

I dream of that day too, that day in the bathroom. When your curse hit me, when I saw my blood mixing with the water and forming red swirls on the tiles. I felt nothing, at least not more pain than usual. I wasn't afraid either, not afraid of dying at least. I've started dying the day that man-beast sunk his teeth into my arm to turn me itno one of his at the command of his master, so I was satisfied to finish dying now, wet and growing colder with every heartbeat, here on this bathroom floor while your eyes lost their coldness and turned horrified at what you've done. As you kneeled besides me watching helplessly at cuts you created. 

Severus didn't tell me much after healing me, only that it was a curse ment for enemies. I guess I can't complain about you regarding me as an enemie. I could only give up on the hope of you ever turning to me with anything other than contempt and dislike.

Aren't you the one supposed to save everyone? That time during the triwizard turnament, I remember how you got them all up from the bottom of the lake, all the champion's loved ones. I feel like I'm swimming in a black ocean without shore, without the chance to reach land so for you not saving me, I must have done really horrible things in your eyes.

I'm not sure if I've ever been fully awake since I entered Azkaban right after the final battle. They say the Dementors are gone, but their presence, their essence is still oozing out of every stone. You probably can't have creatures like that living in a building for so long and than expect the walls to not hold their legacy. My nightmares haunt me, they would probably haunt me everywhere, but here I feel like my life is slowly draining from my boody, as if I where still lying on that bathroom floor bleeding out and the funny thing is, I wouldn't even have thaught that there is still life to be drained.

I'm waking up in complete darkness, my cell has no window, I hear the noises of the prison all around me. I'm cold, sweating, panting. I still see your image burnt into my retinas. I let it drift past, let it vanish. Banish any thought of you. I lost every chance to get you ever since I put on a Death Eater's uniform, ever since I died beneath it and stoped to be anything more...maybe I haven't ever been anything more than a uniform, after all, beeing a Malfoy always meant to keep up a facade till you became the facade and ceased to be anything you wheren't supposed to be.

I curl into a ball, turn to the side and close my eyes again. I can't do anything but wait for my hearing. The full moon is close, even without a window to see I can feel it.


	2. Chapter 2: Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will also see some context-explanations I felt necessary about the state of the wizarding world after the war and the changes I felt would be necessary in the situation...granted, that's a little more than just the songfic, but I felt like writing it, it's kind of my imagined sequel and if I ever write another fic set directly post war it will have the same setting

"Harry, you haven't properly slept for days, you really should rest."   
Hermoine is wrong, I haven't properly slept since before the battle of Hogwarts but I don't plan to correct her, I don't plan to sleep or rest either, not until the wizarding world, the ministry of magic, Azkaban, all those remains of the second Wizard War, are in some kind of order again. Voldemort is dead, but there is still corruption and cruelty, the wizarding world was never really democratic and noone really seemed to mind. I'm not democratic right now either, though. We've turned the ministry upside down, drove the dementors out of Azkaban and still hunt down the last Deatheaters, but it's slow and bitter work.

I became an Auror. Almost immediatelly, almost without doing anything or asking for it. Everyone expected it and I thought it was want I wanted. They handed me the uniform and I took it. What else was I supposed to do? What else was there for me to do after I'd fullfilled the proficy, after I've died? My life went on, with or without me.

Hermoine, Ron and a lot of the others from Dumbledore's Army and the Order help a lot with re-establishing government by preparing the next elections. I'm mostly apparating back and forth between the Deatheater-trials and Azkaban, supervizing the changes in the prision-structur and the fairness of the trials, of course I'm also a witness in a lot of them.  
We agreed to cahnge the punishment of recieving the Dementor's kiss to getting a part or all of ones magical powers and memories taken away, so that criminals won't be able to repeat their deeds but still be alive and maybe able to get a new chance. Of course, for not as severe crimes, there will still be sentences in Azkaban, but we plan to turn it from the inhuman dungeon it still is into a reasonable prision.

I've left Hermoine fretting over new outlines for the laws we plan to change. Now I'm once more walking down the corridors of Azkaban, once more trying to ignore the doors to the cells of all the people I know. The wardens and other Aurors look at me with awe, admiration and sometimes even fear, all they see is the boy who lived and lived again, the golden boy who turned into vengeance by becoming and Auror to restore peace. I wonder if I actually did come back from the dead or if I didn't die for real and finally and all that's left now is this Auror-uniform that replaced my school-uniform. If there ever was something that could die...actually that thought was what made it finally easy to welcome death, has there ever been something between the Dursleys and Hogwarts and Dumbledore and Voldemort, something of me that was really me, something to even be able to die or be worth coming back to life?

Once more I can't help to pause at the door of Draco Malfoy, there is nothing indicating that it's his cell but I know. I let my hand rest against the cold metal. The little barred window inside the door is shut and once more don't dare to open it. Still, I pause to think, to breathe. I lean my back against the cool, smooth metal, let my head fall back and listen to the silence from within his cell.  
I feel drawn to Draco like he's somehow calling me, like we're connected with an invisible, strong bond. 

I've been a hero in this world for so many years and now I'm standing at its edge as in an endless desert of black sand and have nothing left. Just like Draco. We've both been going through life, floating even, for so long without an aim set by ourselves, without being able to decide our own fate, without even anything to call our own. Is that why I always felt like an electric bolt running through my body when he looked at me with those translucent grey eyes. How he was shining like a star with determination and will to fullfill his part even if he hadn't chosen it for himself? 

I close my eyes. 

I hate myself for not being able to realize it sooner. That we are both sindes of the same coin thrown to determine an either-or and spinning in the air around its own axis.

Draco's image emerges from my thoughts. The way he walked through Hogwarts, empty and hollow during sixth year, the way he looked at me, almost seeming glad to be caught in that cursed bathroom and the way his glanze searched mine as he was lying there on the floor, his hands scrambling to stop a bleeding that they would've never been able to control on their own. What would have changed if we'd found each other, if we'd talked, if I'd tried to reach out to him instead of fighting him. I would love to be able to talk with Sirius, Lupin or even Snape, maybe especially Severus who knew Draco so well and who knew what it ment to take on a purpose so big you vanished beyond it.

I wish I could talk to Draco as if our past had never happened, I wish I could go back to that day so long ago at Madame Malkin's and meet him anew. 

I wish I could melt through this door and see him.

But I'm an Auror and I can't show any favor to any of the prisoners. I have to fullfill the task bound to this uniform and forget the remains of Harry Potter that havn't died by now. Just a little longer. Just till I can do more for him at his trials and try to make things right. I only hope that in the end there will be a part of me beneath that Uniform because no matter how often I already should have died, beneath all our masks we only die once, even if it takes a lifetime.


	3. Chaper 3: Draco and Harry

I jerked up from my slumberless dreams. I felt weak, as I always did in the days leading up to the full moon but even more so since I came to Azkaban it had gnawed at my nerves to be here and by now - was it days or weeks later - I felt physikally half dead and welcomed that sensation. Still, something had ripped me back into conciousness. No, someone. Harry.

The magnetic tugging I've felt pulling me towards him ever since I knew him, pulled me towards the door now. Harry was standing on the other side, I was so sure. I sunk to my knees and laid my flat hands on the metal plane of the door. Wishing I could use that magnetic power to pull him through the door towards me. It felt warm, yes, hot even. Burning. Burning with Harry's fire. I leaned my forehead towards this delicious warmth, closing my eyes and trying to transmit to Harry that I was here, that I felt him and waiting for him to feel me in return...but the pictures sliding into my mind where the pictures of the recent past, of my first week at Azkaban.

 

***

Cold. Why was it so cold...when had it turned this cold...had it always been like that? He couldn't remember. He couldn't even remember his name, who or even where he was. Only that feeling that he needed to run away but no matter where he would run, it would never be far enough. They would always find him. He saw blazing red eyes in a snake-like face, the yellow eyes of a beast and flashing teeth and he felt pain, so much pain. Burning him, soaring through his veins, ripping flesh from his bones while deforming his body. He screamed, screamed in agony until - 

"Expecto Patronum" the yell echoed from the wall all around, louder than Draco would have thought possible between the dense layers of stone. 

Warmth washed over him, engulfed him and erased the cold. But the bitter taste of fear lingered, those eyes, the pain haunted him. His breathing was ragged and to fast, his heart felt like its beating would break his ribs. 

"Draco?" a voice from the door accompained by a knock. The little window inside inside the door slid open. Green eyes. Not cold, at least not in the same way they used to look at him. Now those eyes had a coldness that lay at their bottom while emotions merely whisped over and above them. Now, even above the coldness of those green eyes, they too seemed to be warm as well. He stood up and cautiously shuffled closer to the door, his mouth to dry to speak. As he stepped into the light falling into his cell, he saw the man outside smiling in releave.   
Harry. 

"Auror Potter" it was a surprise to see him here...but then again, it wasn't. Of course he had become an Auror and of course it was him to dispelthe Dementors. It had always been him and he had been an Auror for a long time already. He looked older than just a few weeks ago. His cheeks hollow, his face sharp. Eerily simular to a picture of James Potter Draco had seen once. Just not as gentle and carefree as his father. In his high-collared Auror-Uniform, with his eyes like ancient ice, he looked just like the embodiment of Auror duty itself. 

"Thank Merlin, you seem to be alright! How do you feel? Is there anything you need?"

"I'm fine, Sir, thank you." Draco was obviously far from fine and he knew so himself, but after all they've been through, the way they stood on oposite sides of a prison door now, even if Draco longed to reach out and touch the other's cheek, to thank him for banishing the Dementors, all he could bring himself to do was turn around and go back into the darkness before breaking into tears over what he'd become and all the many parts of him that had died along the way.

***

"Good, but if you need anything, anything at all, Draco, just come talk to me." he tried to sound soft, helpful and firm at the same time. It was ridiculous, he knew. How the hell was he supposed to talk to Harry? He wasn't even technically a warden here in Azkaban, just an Auror going where he was needed and as word got to him that half a douzend of Dementors had come back to Azkaban, he'd apparated there immidiatelly to see to the problem directly. Small groups of them still roamend around but luckily they'd always been able to intervene before they claimed any victims.

Harry had just arrived in this corridor as one of the Dementors had tried to pry open one of the cell-doors, screams and whimmering from all around and quickly conjured a patronus. The prisoners' voiced died down but Harry was still able to catch one tone in particular. Harry knew this voice, knew this screaming even though he wished he didn't. This was Draco and he was in pain.

He closed the window to that particular cell again. Draco's condition was worse than he'd feared. The boy looked like Harry felt: Like he'd died and only existed to play out a part, a role that was only a title and not even a name: The criminal and the Auror. He couldn't think of those things now, couldn't allow himself to drown in selfpity. He took a deep breath and turned around, towards the wardens that had started to go around check on the other prisoners shouting: "Who is responsible for this breach of security, how was it possible for Dementors entreing Azkaban?" He was an Auror. He had to akt like one and do his job. No one cared about the Harry Potter beneath this uniform any longer. Not even his old school nemesis saw him as anything but an Auror now.

***

Why have I remembered this story just now? It was here, in this corridors, just a couple of weeks ago and the first time I actually saw Draco after the battle. He looked like he had nothing left to lose, no joy or happiness but not just because of the Dementors. Maybe I'm a fool, but I feel like Draco and I have some sort of deep conection, like fate wants us together. I wish I could give him peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who ever wants to let the story end here, you're welcome. There will be an epilogue but I think the story has a perfectly fine ending here and anyone who wants to imagine the rest for themselves should absolutely do so, everything that follows is just the possibility I like best but not the only thing I still want to happen to Draco and Harry in this setting...but writing more would be too much for this fic and also partly contradictory.
> 
> While writing the story, I thought it would be appealing to let it open weather Draco's memories or magic ability will be erased partly or whole as a punishment for his war-crimes, but since it's still supposed to be a songfic, I didn't want to spell those possibilities out...I will reveal in the epilogue what I think will happen though a kind of afterthought outside of the boundaries of a songfic, so if you don't want to know anything more, be warned and don't read on to the next chapter ;) 
> 
> I never liked Death Sentences or the Dementors Kiss as punishments for crimes and I always felt like a civilisation of wizards would have other means to inflict punishment. Erasing all the memories that made a person turn criminal for example, everything they learned about hate or violence or in severe cases: Erase their whole life and let them start new. I believe that no one is truly evil by nature, so it would make sense and also help them to stay a part of society...one could also give them fake memories of a former life and take their magical powers so that they can still live in the muggle world...or reduce their magical powers so that they can still live in the magic community but are unable to perform complex or dangerous spells. 
> 
> I would like to think that laws like that where established after the Second Wizard War. I also think it would be appealing for Draco to have his memories altered or extinct to free him...but of course then he wouldn't be the Draco we know with the character grown in hardship and conflict, so both possibilities have their pros and cons and I didn't want to write any of it into the 'official' storyline.


	4. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of Draco's trial has arrived. Aurors Harry Potter and Ron Weasley come pick him up from Azkaban. What will the future hold for Draco former Deatheater and Harry Potter the boy who repeatedly refused to die until he didn't know what to live for anymore?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again as an reminder: This chapter is optional, I felt like writing it to bring the story to a solid endig, but it goes beyond the idea of a songfic. If you feel like it, stop reading at "Some years later".
> 
> Anyway: I'd love to hear what you think of the story, of the concept behind it and if you would like to read more of it...I could imagine to fill the gaps in the timeline or creating alternate storylines for alternate possibilities.

Harry was back in Azkaban. This time to pick up Draco Malfoy for his trial this afternoon. Ron, of course an Auror as well, tagged along through the labyrinthious corridours of the wizarding world's high security prison, not even wondering as Harry knew the way to Draco's cell with dreamlinke certainty.

"Everything allright, Mate?" the dark haird boy didn't respond, his face brooding with dark emotions and deep thought. "It sure is strange to bring Draco Malfoy into court after all those years in Hogwarts where he's been such a righteous, entitled brat that got away with anything." Ron tried to easen the gloomy mood.  
"He doesn't belong here. He hasn't deserved rotting in Azkaban...we should start to forgive. At least those wizards who just sided with Voldemort out of fear or family bounds like Draco."  
"You sound like Hermoine." Ron chuckled too focused on raising his best friend's fould mood to notice that he'd, so unlike him, just used Malfoy's first name. Harry turned to look at him and he felt quite at the exhausted, aged look in his best friend's eyes.  
"I think you're right though, there have been enough trials and resentment, the sooner we let it all behind us and move on, the better." quietly, both of them with their own thoughts about the war and what they've lost in it, they finally reached Draco's cell. 

Follwoing protocol, they conjured magical barriers into the corridor around the cell door to prevent any attempt of flight, even though none of the prisoners they'd seen so far was in any condition to run away, either physically too weakened or mentally too broken, and let the wardens unlock the door. The darkness inside the cell seemed to swallow any light from the corridor, all they could see was collum of light, dust lazily dancing through the air.

Harry cleared his throat in an attempt to bring his voice back that had suddenly disappeared: "Prisoner Draco Malfoy. You are hereby summond to court to be held accountable for your crimes during the second wizarding war and answer the questions of the legal authorities. Please comply as we are allowed and obliged to use force up to magical shackles and verita serum should you restist the Aurors or any other government or juristical official." the words law required them to say calmed him down and helped him find back into his role as an Auror. He didn't have to think, didn't have to be Harry, he only had to be Auror Potter and it would be alright, even if he hated switching of his personality to become a tool for others. As long as it where the right others it was bearable and he hadn't been much more for most his life anyway.

Slowly a figure began to form out of the shadows. Tall, thin, pale and even more sharp angles than Harry could remember. Clad into the striped uniform of Azkaban's prisoners, hair shaggy, unkempt beard, hair now more gray- than silver-blond. Draco Malfoy stood before them. It broke Harry's heart to see yet another wizard whom just weeks in Azkaban had reduced to an empty shell of a person...how much Draco in this state reminded him of Sirius when they'd first met. 

Draco saw disbelive, then pitty, then anger mirrored in the emerald seas that where Harry Potter's oh so readable eyes.

"You can't be serious! Again?" He pointed to Draco, shouting at the wardens that had stood guard at the door. "Guys, we've talked about this. You can't treat the prisoners like that and we can't bring them into court if they are half starved and out of their mind...what kind of trials can we have if they aren't even able to think straight and form sentences due to exhaution and dehidration?"

To Draco's surprise it was Ron who started weaving spell after spell onto Draco. Magic tingled around him as he felt being cleaned, his hair slicking back combed, his unruly beard that had grown in the weeks he'd spent in his cell being somewhat groomed. After scolding the wardens for what seemed like the tenth time, Harry handed him a bundle of clothes. Simple dark robes and what appeared to be a clean prisoner's uniform. His hands touching Drao's felt strong, calloused and warm, just like they used to in school days long past.

"Go change, we'll wait. We've started to come pick the prisoners up earlier since it's the same every time, they are in no state to bear a long trial. We'll also get you something to eat before we leave...do you need anything else before we go?"

They didn't understand the inaudible mumbled response as the blond man, even as he was almost as tall as Ron, had bowed his head and seemed to want to vanish into the shadows of his cell again. "What did you say, Malfoy?"  
He looked up, haunted eyes wandering between Ron and Harry and finally locking with the later. "Wolfsbane Potion." puzzled, confused looks as if the man had still no idea what Draco had said. "It's full moon again, isn't it."

"That's imposible!" shrieked Ron "You're bloody joking Malfoy, right? That's a joke, no?" he turned to the Wardens in disbelieve "If Malfoy was a werewolf, you'd already given him Wolfsbane." almost desperate, not wanting to grasp what this would mean he turned back looking at Malfoy, searching his face, his body, looking back into his eyes with an almost wounded expression. Ever since Bill had been attacked by Fenrir, lycanthropy had been a sensitive point for him even though his brother ended up being alright.  
The wardens shuffled uncomfortable, obviously feeling caught.

"Show me your arm." Harry's voice, raspy and hoarse but still a command. Draco tooka a while to balance the clothes he was still holding so that he could get a hand free to slide his sleeve up his forearm and expose an old but badly healed and ghastly red scar.  
"Shit" was all Ron managed to say.  
"Greyback?" Harry simply asked, eyes firmly on Draco's. He nodded.  
Suddenly realisation tightened his features. "That was during the summer before -" "Sixth year" Draco finished, again unable to hold Harry's stare and turning his eyes to the floor, wishing he could just turn invisible, wishing he wouldn't be there at all.  
"Shit" Ron has caught up. "This changes everything...he did it to get your parents back in line, no?" 

 

They are finally able to take Draco with them. He now looks more like the person he used to be but still too thin and too grey. Harry has no idea how his trial is going to be, weather the people wanting revenge for the crimes the Malfoys participated in will outweigh the people understanding the dilema of a teenage boy bound by his family name. He has his hand around Draco's arm, as he's supposed to as they lead the shackled young man through the corridors and to the portkey that will bring them to the ministry. But he tries to keep his grip gentle and reassuring.

"Draco, we are required to tell you that the laws have changed. Instead of Death Penalty or the Dementor's kiss, the highest penalties are no to get either parts or the whole of your memories erased, as well as, or getting parts or the whole of your magical ability taken away. The worst that could happen is to get a new false identity and being sentenced to live your life in the muggle world from now on with no recollection of ever having been a wizard." another paragraph they learned and now recite to every prisoner.

Malfoy looks at him again with those haunted, vulnerable eyes. "Can one also choose to take this sentence?" Harry is confused for just a second by this statement.

"I guess you could, though no one has opted for it till now."

"Has this sentence been spoken already?"

A long silenece from both his guards.

"Yes...a couple of times in one way or the other."

No one of them says anything else until they reach the ministry and hand Draco over to the court officials, getting ready to be witnesses in the process of Draco Malfoy, Deatheater.

 

Some years later: Harry entered the elevator in the ministry of magic, plucking the last renmants of slimy goo the suspect's curse had covered him with from his Auror's robes. "Hrhmpf" a pointed cough braught him to look up from his ruined Uniform. "Mister Potter, would you mind not spreading this stuff all throughout ministry property and onto other people's clothes?" Harry's annoyed frown turned into guilt "Excuse my carelessnes" hastily he inspected the blond man's robe for spashes of the distgusting slime. "Of course I will pay for the damage I've caused, Mister Malfoy, I'm inconsolable." he still couldn't find any stain on the other man's immaculate pressed robes and it started to dawn on him that his boyfriend had fooled him more than he'd already thought: "Draco, you prat." He flingened a piece of slime in the blond's direction, the slim man laughed and blocked it with an elegant swing of his wand. Then, in another motion he had cleaned Harry's robes and closed the distance between them. "You know there is a spell for that, yes?" "For an Unspeakable your awefully talkative." Harry laughed and closed his lover into his arms, pulling him tight, bringing their lips together. Draco smiled into the kiss and sneaked his hands down the dark haired man's back. It had taken time. Time for them to get over their respective war-traumas, time to get to know each other and time to realize that they loved each other, that the feeling between them might have been love all this time after all. They kissed until the elevator-doors opened again with a pling. "See you tonight, Harry." Draco said leaving the cabin, his hand only hesitantly sliding out of Harry's entwined fingers. "Yeah, Draco. See you at home." the doors closed again and Harry was glad that Draco didn't see how long it took for the broad grin on his face to fade again. Yes, he was happy and he finally felt like himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, see you soon, Sulhpuric :)


End file.
